stargateficrec | As Sorrow, by Leah and ribbon

Show: Stargate Atlantis
Rec Category: Rodney McKay
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, OCs
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (established)
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash
Warning/Spoilers: Character deaths; major squick | Set season five or later
Author on LJ:

taste_is_sweet and

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Author's Website: taste_is_sweet at Wraithbait and

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Link: As Sorrow

Why this must be read:
Summary: In nature there is no evil, only an abundance of horror. —Isak Dinesen (13k words)

This one is utterly horrifying. (The opening quotation from Proverbs, "Like a moth in clothing, or a maggot in wood, sorrow gnaws at the human heart", is quite deliberate.) Trapped in a collapse, Rodney is relieved to discover he is not the only survivor, but their predicament swiftly worsens until Rodney must make a terrible and devastating choice. Rodney's various aspects are showcased nicely here, from his disdain for coworkers and grudging recognition of competence to his determination to keep others safe and sometimes surprising bravery. The writers recognize, too, that what they put Rodney through would leave more scars than simply the physical — but that Rodney is stubborn enough to fight back, in his own way.

Excerpt:
Rodney launched himself away from the wall, scrabbling on his hands and knees back to the hole. It made his head swim violently, but he managed to ignore the nausea that came with it as he stretched himself out on the broken stone floor.

"What? What is it? What's happening?" Rodney demanded. He lay face-down on the floor, twisting his neck awkwardly to peer into the dark opening. He carefully squirmed one of his hands in next to his head so he could shine the flashlight in, but all he could see were the tips of John's fingers and the blood glistening red through the smears of dirt. "John?" Rodney dropped the flashlight so he could thrust his arm through the hole again. He fumbled his way to John's fingers and gripped his hand.

"Ow," John said, but he held Rodney's hand just as tightly as Rodney was holding his. Still there; still alive.

"What is it?" Rodney asked again. "Are you all right?"

"Nothing," John said, which Rodney knew was a blatant lie even without the fact that John could barely say the word. "Just laughing. Bad idea. I'm fine."

"Like hell," Rodney snarled. He shoved his arm in until his shoulder ached, but the most he could reach was John's wrist. He tried to find John's pulse but couldn't feel it under his dirt-covered sleeve. "What the hell is it with you military types and always insisting you're fine? Do you really think there's any possible way I could believe that?"

"No point...worry...about what you can't...change," John said.

"Oh, God, now you sound like Ronon," Rodney said, and was gratified to hear the breathy chuckle, but then John gasped again.

"Don't...make me laugh," he said.

"Right, right," Rodney said quickly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry." He ran his thumb up and down over the backs of John's fingers, the one pitiful thing he could do to offer comfort, painfully aware that he couldn't leave his arm blocking the hole for long. "I wish I had morphine."

"Me too," John said.

Rodney swallowed. "Well, I'm sure Jennifer will give you bucket loads of the stuff as soon as you're out of there," he said as breezily as possible.

"Sure," John panted.

"Absolutely," Rodney said firmly, "We'll get through this. We've both survived worse scrapes than this before, right? Hell, this is nothing compared to being trapped on the bottom of an ocean!" He went on before John could try to answer, "And it's not like you've never had a building fall on you before. This is just par for the course in Sheppard world, isn't it? Isn't it?" he repeated when John didn't respond. "Come on," Rodney said, clawing a shaking laugh out of his throat. "You know being Mr. Positive isn't exactly my forte here!"

John didn't answer.

"John?" For a long, terrible moment Rodney thought that John was dead, that his heart had finally given out under the weight of the stone. Then John's hand moved and Rodney breathed out a trembling sigh of relief.

"Rodney," John said with awful care, "I'm not—"

"Don't you dare!" Rodney shouted his terror into the tiny breech that separated them. "You are not giving up on me, understand? We are both getting out of here, and when we do I'm going to kill you for scaring me like this, got it? You, you just..." Rodney's voice had started to shake, and he had to swallow a few times until his throat didn't hurt too much to speak. The dirt was making his eyes sting. "You just need to hang on a bit longer, okay? Just a little bit longer until we're rescued. You're going to be fine."

"You're right," John said. "You...are terrible at this."

Rodney made a sound that was almost a laugh. "Yes, thank you. I know." He took a breath, still automatically stroking the back of John's red stained fingers. "You're not going to give up on me, John," he said fiercely. "I'm not letting you give up on me. I'm stuck with you, remember? You wouldn't let me say goodbye then, and I'm sure as hell not letting you say goodbye now."